Flushed
by Lotus Wright
Summary: As she stood waiting, she realized not a single person had entered or exited that door in the past four minutes. In an instant, she made her decision: after all, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do... AH B/E silliness & sexiness. Written for Straight Thru the Heart contest.
1. Chapter 1

**I wrote this thing for the Straight Thru the Heart contest. It's not so much romantic as it is an exercise in silliness (and an exercise in writing lemons). Thanks to Fran for beta'ing.**

There were eleven women standing in line in front of me. In six minutes, the movie would start, and the thought of sitting through two hours of a lame-ass action flick would be even worse if I had to hold in my pee that long.

I glanced at the door of the men's bathroom.

No line.

Not a single person had entered or exited in the past four minutes.

Why do we even have gender segregation in bathrooms anyway? What's the harm in men and women using the same frigging toilets?

What, in fact, would it hurt …If I just snuck out of this ridiculously long line and entered the empty men's room, peed, and left? Who would care?

Counting the heads in front of me, I saw that there were still eleven women in line. This was taking forever.

Really, wouldn't it be the ultimate feminist thing to do? Stand up against gender segregated bathrooms that severely disadvantaged women. We had to pee more often _and_ took longer doing it. I mean, the bathrooms were probably equal in size, which made it all very unfair.

It took less than a minute to convince myself that not only was it the natural thing to do, but using the men's bathroom was, in fact, going to be epically important in the struggle for equality.

Or something.

Mind: made up.

I stepped out of the line and quickly made my way towards the men's room, forcing myself not to look back at the people that must, no doubt, be staring at me right now for disregarding all the basic rules regarding public peeing; the archaic ones that society set forward as the law.

Ages ago.

This was a feminist revolution, dammit.

One deep breath, a quick what-the-fuck-ever-I-can-do-this muttered to myself, and I pushed the door open to find myself in undiscovered territory that was, looks-wise, entirely uninteresting.

Tiles, stalls, bright lights, a mirror, and sinks.

Oh! And a row of urinals.

Well, whatever.

I quickly locked myself into one of the stalls to do what I came here to do. Ahhhh, sweet relief. This was really one of the best ideas I've had today. Certainly better than the moment I agreed to go with Angela and Ben along with Ben's coworker, the accountant, on a double slash blind date to a fucking action movie. I don't even like action movies. And I definitely do not like whatshisname, with his twenty-nine-year-old face full of zits, and his corduroy pants. Don't forget the gelled up hair and his two chins and his hand hanging from mine like a limp noodle when he introduced himself. The spit that flew out of his mouth when he said his name made me want to hurl.

I am a horrible person for being so appalled that I didn't even remember what his name was, just that it was accompanied by that very unwelcome spit shower.

But I suppose I should get out there and get through it, and then confront Angela for making me agree to a double date with a potato. Tonight would most likely go down in history as a really bad date. It's not like I haven't had those before. My dating experiences would read like a novel if that novel were called Tinder, Bars, and Blind Dates: A History of Disasters.

I flushed and opened the stall door with an elbow, stepping out while simultaneously trying to fasten the damn button on my pants.

A sound of shuffling feet made my head spin towards the urinals, as I came to the horrifying conclusion that they were no longer unoccupied.

A tall man with a lion's mane of hair was using one of them, although he didn't seem to notice me, and I could – thankfully – only see his back. I could still take a few steps to the left and sneak out unseen. I should probably make work of buttoning up my jeans; I thought and looked down while taking a step back.

"Oh! Fudge! Crap, crap, crap!" I exclaimed as my heel roughly hit the metal corner of the stall. Clearly I should've paid more attention to where I was going. Why were these stall frames made of metal anyway?

That sh- stuff hurts!

The man, no doubt startled by the sound of a woman's voice in his bathroom, instinctively turned around, eyes wide, mouth open, as, simultaneously, my eyes took him in completely and both of us realized that his hand was, in fact, still holding his…penis.

Thankfully no longer peeing, but still very prominently on display.

I mean, sure, my hands were in the general area of my crotch, too, but at least I was semi-clothed.

Remembering that I was actually raised properly and I was being outrageously rude just staring at his dick, I snapped my head up to look him in the eyes, where I found an expression of pure horror and embarrassment that surely echoed mine, except that he looked rather hot in spite of it.

Was he as frozen as I was – was that why he still hadn't put his…thing… away?

What the hell?

I glanced back down.

Still a penis in his hand.

I jerked up my eyes.

Still the same horrified expression on his face as his eyes bounced from my face to my cleavage to my hand with its fingers on my button fly.

 _Fuck_.

I guess this is why men and women don't share bathrooms.

How do I fix this?

"Uhm. Hi. That's some…umm…juicy looking di—um... I'm just…gonna…yeah." I shuffled in the general direction of the exit, eyes still flicking up and down between his face and his dick. Mortification aside, some part of me realized that both – his face and his dick – were extraordinarily beautiful. Chiseled jaw and sculpted cock. Bright green eyes and – oh, my God was it _bobbing_?

Quickly glancing back at his face I saw that the lion-haired man was now biting his lip, obviously trying not to burst out laughing. Understandable – I mean, what the heck did I just say? Really? A snort escaped my mouth and I quickly brought a hand up to cover my lips, as if that would make the unattractive snort go away.

The lion-haired man was still holding his dick, I noticed, as I chanced a quick look down. It was still bobbing as he was shaking with silent laughter, but it was also … bigger.

Growing.

Oh God.

He was aroused?

How the heck did this experience, quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of all time, arouse him?

Although…

I _did_ think he was beautiful.

And so was his cock.

And it was getting prettier by the second.

Now … truth be told, I hadn't seen a lot of cocks in my twenty-one years, so let it be known I was not a cock connoisseur or a dick dignitary, or for that matter even proficient in penis… but his one was perfect to my eyes.

I subconsciously licked my lips and looked back at his face, because surely, staring at a stranger's cock for too long would be considered rude, even if he did have it out for all (well, me) to see. And even if he was still holding it.

Possibly stroking it, I thought, as I saw some movement in his right arm.

His eyes were locked on mine, teeth biting his bottom lip. He wasn't laughing anymore, just staring, intensely, at me.

I took a step forward – considering I was fully clothed aside from my unbuttoned jeans, and he was showing off his goods, I figured it was fair if I showed some initiative. I wasn't sure _why_ I was taking the initiative, but I was powerless to stop my feet from moving forward. It seemed there wasn't a power on earth that could make me move away from the gorgeous specimen of man-and-manhood in front of me.

He responded by smirking slightly and again moving his hand.

Yeah.

Definitely stroking.

Two more steps and we were face-to-face, close enough to touch.

Looking at his face I wanted to take the time to wonder how such a perfectly sculpted human being could exist – such symmetry, such incredible green eyes, such a strong jawline – but I stored the image away for later, focusing on other priorities instead.

My mouth opened of its own accord though no sound came from within. His free hand came up to touch my face, a thumb sliding across my bottom lip, and my tongue darted out to touch it.

Abruptly, his hand moved from my lip to the back of my neck, and my head was thrust forward almost aggressively as his fingers tucked themselves into my hair. Lips were smashed together hard, almost painfully, and I found myself stepping forward so I could press my entire body against his as my mouth opened, granting him access, tongues dueling, battling, and my hand found its way into his lion's mane. We were both rough, rougher than I'd ever been, teeth clashing, fingertips bruising skin, tongues matching as if it was a competition.

He finally, _finally_ , removed his hand from his exposed cock, and immediately placed it on my ass; with a sharp tug my abdomen was smashed into his, as close as we could get with our clothes on. Well, mine were mostly on, anyway.

I could feel his erection against my stomach – he was so much taller than me that it was nowhere near any erogenous zones, and yet, I was so incredibly aroused I couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

I was flying high, on instinct alone, deliberately refusing all attempts of my brain to stop and think about what I was doing, and I allowed my left hand to leave his back and make its way to the erection pressing against me.

His mouth left mine, pressing kisses along my neck, teeth leaving small marks and I gave his cock a tug with every bite mark I felt, loud moans involuntarily escaping me. A hand slid up my shirt, feeling its way to my breast, squeezing gently, finding my nipple.

"I need you," he whispered in my ear – the first words he'd spoken. I knew, and I realized how unfathomable it was that I needed him, too.

"Yesss," I hissed, my fingers exploring his hair and his erection, both hands pulling, stroking, and feeling.

Without warning, I was pushed backward, back into the stall I had walked out of a minute ago. He closed the door behind us quickly as he pushed me against the wall with one hand, his other finding my open fly.

I helped him slide my jeans down so I could stand a little wider, but it was constricting, limiting my moves and I quickly kicked them down and off my one leg – the most efficient way for me to be able to move the way I wanted to.

Jeans hanging off one ankle was surely not the most erotic sight, I thought, but the intensity of his green eyes flying over my body made me feel like such details didn't matter. Surely, if the fact that we were making out in a public bathroom weren't a turn-off, pieces of clothing would be unimportant.

I looked down – his cock was still showing off, now incredibly hard and so much bigger than it had been earlier and now with a glistening drop of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

Our eyes met again, both of us somehow conveying the same silent 'yes' to each other, and simultaneously my hand grabbed his cock as his hand ripped my panties off. His fingers found their way back fast, cupping me as I stroked him, and I was going insane with want for this complete stranger.

He must have felt the same, magically producing a condom from his pocket and putting it on in record speed.

Another silent conversation passed between our eyes – his saying 'do you want this' and mine probably saying something like 'are you kidding me? NOW!'

I was never one for subtlety.

I was lifted off the floor by his hands, fingers cupping my butt and cock sliding against my clit as he searched for the right spot, the right angle, and wasting no time as he found it and thrust deep inside, filling me. There was nothing gentle about his movements, but then, there was nothing about this that I wanted to be gentle. I cried out, loudly; one of his hands found my mouth to silence me and I bit down because what else could I do to restrain myself while being fucked so thoroughly?

My legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him even deeper into me, as we groaned together with every thrust, far too loud for any public place. My forehead rested on his shoulder – I couldn't focus on anything that had to do with my head – as his mouth found my neck, kissing, licking, sucking, biting the most sensitive of spots. It was as if he knew that my neck was my Achilles heel, and I cried out, orgasm forming – me, the girl who could only ever come in missionary, was going to come harder than ever before, from being fucked ruthlessly against a bathroom wall.

Grunts and thrusts and moans succeeded each other effortlessly; trying to keep quiet had been long since forgotten.

He drove his cock deeper inside and groaned the most delicious sound, speed increasing as well as the volume of his incoherent sounds, both of us coming as skin slapped together, harder, louder, deeper.

Circumstance and environment, forgotten.

"Oh, god, yes, YES, YESSSS," I screamed, in lieu of a name, but not dwelling on the fact that I didn't know his.

"Fuck, yes, oh fuck, fuck, shit, oh fuuuuck," he groaned, sticking to profanities, as we both climbed, reached our peaks, and shattered with a final thrust. As I dug my fingernails into his back, his teeth biting down on my neck, both of us hurting each other in the most delicious way possible as we slowly came down to earth.

Eyes shut.

Panting.

Sweating.

And then, the sobering realization that you've just had sex with a total stranger, in a public bathroom, while your date is waiting for you to go see a movie that probably started ten minutes ago.

Whoops.

I forced my eyes to open, looking into his gorgeous greens as if that would help me find an answer to what the _fuck_ just happened.

But a tiny droplet of sweat finding its way down from his brow distracted me from my mission and reduced me to the obvious and simple: admiring how beautiful this man was. All I could do now was press my lips against his as I slowly untangled my legs from his body and tried to regain my composure.

He kissed me back, less feverishly than before; tenderly, as if it were love instead of lust. His fingers were in my hair again, but there was no aggressive tugging and pulling, just caressing, bringing me closer with gentleness. As the heat wound down, he peppered soft kisses on my lips, the corner of my mouth, my cheeks, and the side of my head. Somehow, the sweetness of it all made me feel at home, and the next second I was back on earth and feeling insane, like it was all too overwhelming, too much too soon, and what the fuck had I done anyway.

Was I _crazy_?

And I desperately needed distance, soon.

"Thank you," I whispered. Most likely the lamest yet best thing I could come up with right now, as I buttoned my jeans – now panty-less, as they lay on the floor ripped to shreds.

He looked lost, somehow, trying to find words perhaps, when previously he'd only uttered profanities and heat-of-the-moment-nothings.

Was he perhaps as entranced as I was? As confused by what just went down? Was he thinking I was a total slut for fucking someone I had never even talked to? Or could he tell that this was not my usual M.O.? Did he feel this magical, irresistible pull, too? Or – oh God – maybe _he_ was the slut that made a habit out of fucking complete strangers and I was just one of many.

Too many questions, too many doubts plaguing me, society's standards yelling at me that I was a wanton whore, and suddenly I tensed, frightened, insecure.

I had to get out of there.

I chanced one more look at my lion's mane guy, kissed him firmly on the lips, and ran out of the bathroom, not looking back, buttoning my jeans as I took my strides away from the Greek god who had just made me feel the most incredible things.

"Where were you?" Angela whispered as I took my seat in the dark theater. Immediately, the next row of people hissed at her for talking, even though the movie had only started a few minutes ago and nothing interesting was happening.

"Um. Bathroom. Long line. You know." I mumbled, looking the other way.

My tardiness had an unexpected upside – the theater was so crowded that the only spot left was next to Angela. This meant I did not have to sit next to my nameless date. I was okay with that and plopped down, thinking about my anonymous fuck.

What the hell just happened?

I had waited seven months to have sex with my high school boyfriend – three years later, he was still the only person I'd ever had sex with – and now I just had sex with a complete stranger _… in a public bathroom_? What was it about him that made me feel as if angels were singing and nudging me saying ' _good one, dear, nice choice!_ '

But God, it wasn't even just about the sex, as heavenly as that was; it was the eyes, the brightness, and sparkle as he looked at me. The hands as he caressed my back and laced his long fingers through my hair; his lips as they touched mine in my goodbye, soft and caring instead of merely fueled by lust.

 _Hallelujah_ , the back of my mind sang to me.

In front of me, some movie star was shooting bullets into the bad guy's head.

 _Hallelujah_ , the bright green eyes sang to me.

Blood exploded on screen as the bad guy fell back dramatically, toppling over the edge of the skyscraper's roof.

 _Hallelujah,_ what the heck are you still doing here, Bella? My mind screamed at me. Did you seriously just leave the hottest man alive in the bathroom after letting him fuck your brains out? Are you seriously on a semi-date with whatshisname the lame-ass loser when you could, at the _very_ least, be trying to find out who Mister Lion's Mane is? Are you crazy right now?

Good point, I thought, as I glanced at the screen – the hero was furiously fighting a dozen bad guys, who were all generously waiting their turn to fight said hero instead of just jumping him at the same time – what was I doing here anyway?

I grabbed Angela's arm, gave it a quick squeeze, and as she faced me, I mouthed 'later, sorry'. I stood up and walked towards the exit hunched over awkwardly, trying not to ruin anyone's movie experience despite the fact that said movie was more than stupid.

Finding the black door in the darkened movie theater, I pushed it open and found myself in the brightly lit lobby, a few people flitting about.

Not a lion-maned man in sight.

This was stupid. Did I think my _hallelujah_ moment was going to make him appear in front of me with a frickin' halo?

Did I think angels were going to lead me to my anonymous stranger?

Ugh.

So stupid.

I shook my head, closing my eyes as I tried to determine what to do: go back and watch the rest of the stupid movie or just walk home?

Home it is, I thought, looking at the multi-colored carpet as I speed walked my way across the lobby. I passed the concessions stand and while the rough sex had made me hungry, I wasn't in the mood for popcorn, so I walked on without looking.

"Hey!" Someone at the concessions stand yelled. I turned around to see my beautiful stranger making his way to me from behind the popcorn machine. He was wearing a shirt with the movie theater's logo on it, which I hadn't noticed earlier; I had obviously been distracted by other parts of him.

I stood motionless, as I waited nervously for him to reach me. I'd walked out of the movie hoping to find him, but now I had absolutely no clue what to say, and I nervously twirled my hair around my finger as I watched him.

 _Hallelujah,_ what a beautiful creature.

"You work here?" I asked as if that wasn't both obvious and extraordinarily unimportant.

"Yeah. You watching a movie?" He smiled a beautiful magazine-cover smile at me.

"Um. I walked out. Stupid movie, bad company," which wasn't at all the " _I wanted to find you, you gorgeous demi-God"_ that was really on the tip of my tongue. But he seemed to like my answer anyway as his smile grew bigger.

"Wanna watch a better one with me?" His eyes twinkled as he held out his hand, and I didn't think twice about placing my own in it.

"Definitely. No, wait. One condition."

"Well, you can't backtrack after a 'definitely' like that, but sure," he winked.

"I want to know your name by the end of the movie."

He just laughed at me. "How about now?" He stood up straighter, shaking my hand with the same hand that had previously been holding his absolutely admirable appendage. "I'm Edward Cullen. And you are?"

"Bella Swan," I replied, suddenly feeling shy. "Nice to _finally_ meet you, too."

*.*.*

"Do tell me how you two met, Isabella?"

I was sitting on a pristine beige couch, sipping tea from a flowery cup, wearing my Sunday best. My white blouse had been ironed, my navy skirt was brand new, my shoes were sleek yet modest, and my pantyhose were, miraculously enough, holding up without any holes and ladders in them. Edward's mother was sitting in front of me, looking far more put-together than I did despite all my effort, and her question was innocent enough, but it almost made me choke on my tea as I remembered our first meeting.

"Um. We met at the movie theater, Mrs. Cullen. I went to see a movie, he was working that night, and the rest is history."

Hey, I wasn't lying.

Mrs. Cullen huffed a little, and I was glad Edward had prepped me: his mother hated his job, saying that it wasn't necessary to do something quite as _common_. She was rich and stuffy and everything about her screamed Old Money. However, Edward had wanted to work while finishing his studies and had gone against his mother's wishes. I knew the huffing was mostly her annoyance about his job and where he spent most of his time. That old, art-deco theater where we'd met had been in his father's family for decades, and he loved the place. Seemed Edward had inherited not only the building but also his dad's passion for movies; another reason his mother was so against it.

That, or she was just really displeased with the fact that her son was now dating a _commoner_ , and couldn't find it in her to be polite about it.

"And my son informed me that you are moving in together, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded as Edward walked back into the room.

"Is that not a tad… overzealous? Too soon?" Mrs. Cullen asked, clearly not approving of our decision.

"Mother!" Ah, thank you, Edward, for saving me from the rest of this conversation. "We've talked about this. It's been four months; we just hadn't had a chance to let you meet Bella yet. And it's our decision."

Mrs. Cullen simply nodded. "I will go and get you some more tea. Excuse me." She stood up and stiffly walked off towards the kitchen.

I exhaled a shaky breath. I was so incredibly uncomfortable with all of this. The money, the beige couch, the cleanliness, the Old Money culture, the fact that I wasn't wearing my trusty jeans, the disapproving mom…

"Hey," Edward whispered in my ear. "Wanna sneak off to the bathroom?"

My loud snort was undoubtedly heard in the kitchen. His mind was clearly in the same gutter as mine was, remembering the way we started, and how I made the best decision ever by walking into the men's room.

Revolutionary feminism, indeed.

Edward chuckled and kissed my cheek. "Are you alright, Bella? You look a little flushed…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Flushed, chapter 2**

 **A/N: What? A chapter two?  
Yeah, I know. I don't know what I was thinking either, but you asked for it, so here ya go.  
Thank you all, by the way, for your awesome feedback on this crazy story. I hope the Fanfiction Police that reported Flushed are very very slow in their removal of it... (But just so you know there's a good chance this story suddenly disappears, and it won't be my choice.) **

**Thanks to Snowflakelover for the insane idea & prereading, and to Fyrebirch & Chocl8lips for the beta work. **

**¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯**

I broke up with Edward only a week after that horrid first meeting with his mother, exactly eight days before the day we'd planned to move in together.

You should know it's not like I really _wanted_ to break up with him, though. It was sort of an accident, and then it got out of hand, and the next thing I knew, he was asking me, "You're breaking up with me?"

And I heard myself say, "Yeah, I guess I am," and for the love of all that's holy I have no idea why I said that.

Of course there's a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. I don't want to place all the blame on my PMS, but . . . yeah. There was that.

I was moody. Cranky. Bloated. I had just taken a final on 1950's literature that I was pretty sure I'd failed, because while I half-liked Kerouac and half-understood Ginsberg, Burroughs' The Naked Lunch just had me skipping the pages aimlessly, thinking 'it's not like there's a plot in this thing anyway.' Which was true enough, but not necessarily the best way to prepare for an exam.

And that just led to an existential crisis of 'what do I want to do with my life anyway?' Because obviously, every literature student is going to have a few of those, and then there's Edward, the ultimate Mr. Perfect, good looks and money and morals, with his "I've known I wanted to be a doctor since I was six," and his current track towards becoming a doctor, because he wanted to become a pediatric surgeon. He'd be saving lives while I read books. _Children's_ lives! The man was a saint. Ugh.

I digress. Where was I? PMS. Bad exam. Big differences in intended life paths. And oh yeah - Edward had cancelled on me twice in one week because all of a sudden his mom needed his help on 'society engagements.'

That just translated to me as: Hey, Bella, you're working class, and I'm going to rub it in your face, that, despite my job at the theater, I have more money than you could ever spend, and a _family crest_.

No, really, they did have a crest. A 6 ft. tall image of it, encased in gold, was displayed in Mrs. Cullen's hallway - pardon, _foyer_ \- so it's not like you could miss it.

His mom was enacting this high class war with me, I felt, making Edward join in their high society bullshit and making sure that he couldn't meet up with me. She didn't have to spell out that she thought me beneath him; that was obvious enough. To me, anyway.

Because Edward, with all his glorious dreams and working low-end jobs as if he needed even more money, didn't agree, and loved his mother like a cat loves boxes. No wait, that analogy doesn't work, he doesn't want to sit in - never mind, you get the idea. He loved her. A lot. And he kept swearing that she didn't hate me as much as I thought she did.

I'm getting to the point, I promise.

I'd been sitting on the couch in a sweater riddled with holes and my bright pink sweatpants, vegging out on Netflix, enduring my hormonal hell, and generally pissed off because of finals and Edward, and he'd had the nerve to come over to bring me Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough.

Okay, yeah, that was actually really sweet of him.

The trouble started about ten minutes in, when he started to give me a foot rub.

I know, _I know_ , that was also ridiculously sweet of him.

"So, I know I promised you we'd go see a movie on Friday," he'd said, and I tensed up, because nothing good could come out of a talk that started this way.

"Yes...?"

"But um… my mom has this fundraiser gala that she wants me to go to. It's raising money for kids with cancer. And I was wondering if…"

I'd heard enough and hid my irrational, icy anger with kind words. "If it would be okay to postpone our date? Of course. I know how important your mom is to you, and that sounds like a great cause. It's no problem, really, I was going to… um… I was going to visit my dad that weekend anyway, so now I can leave on Friday afternoon instead of Saturday. It's perfect! Don't worry about it. You go do your upper class blah blah things."

I'd thought that was pretty nice of me, but he didn't look too happy. Did I mention I wasn't the most rational person at that moment?

"Upper class blah blah things?"

For some reason, his question had me ranting uncontrollably. I'm not entirely sure what I said exactly, but it involved long speeches about 'different worlds', and 'you know I don't belong there', and 'I don't know why you like all that pish posh crap anyway' and 'your mom is manipulating you because she hates me and you're letting her.'

Let's just say it wasn't pretty and leave it at that.

He looked mostly confused and didn't say anything. I figured he was thinking of ways to agree with me so I took the words out of his mouth. "We're from different worlds, Edward. You know this. Let's just admit it to ourselves. This was never going to work."

Which, of course, is when he asked whether I was breaking up with him, and I, apparently, said yes.

*.*.*

"You're an idiot."

I had wallowed for a few days, not answering my phone, and being generally disgusting, until Angela finally showed up on my doorstep on day six and refused to leave. We had cleaned up the pizza boxes and hundreds of dried-up tissues, and then she'd forced me to take a shower and tell her what was going on.

"Thanks for that."

"No, you really are. You're a self-sabotaging idiot. That guy was _crazy_ for you. You were crazy for him. He put up with your quirks and you said yourself he was perfect. On top of all that, you had the best, most insane and almost unbelievable how-you-met-story I have ever heard. And you manage to _accidentally_ break up with him?"

"I was PMS'ing and his mother is a conniving devil!"

"Wow. Yeah. That doesn't sound like a petty toddler at all. Very mature. Let's start with the mom. Hey - consider this: maybe, you were making up the Cruella de Vil persona and the mom's an okay person, despite the evil of being rich?"

That pissed me off. "You don't know her, Angela!"

"Neither do you, technically. You met her once, right? And yes, she lives in a big house and she has a lot of money and she didn't like his job, and she didn't really warm up to you immediately, and maybe she didn't like that you were going to move in together so soon. But aside from your own imagination, do you have any proof that she actively tried to sabotage your relationship with Edward?"

"Well - but! She… you know… she! Damn it, Ange. She _huffed_ at me!"

She didn't have to do more than quirk an eyebrow at me to make her point, and I slumped down on my crappy couch - the same one that I shouldn't even own anymore, because Edward and I had agreed to throw it out, as his couch was much better. I should have been packing up boxes and taking the damn couch to the local Goodwill, because I should have been moving in with Edward in two days, instead of crying on my own crappy furniture in my own crappy apartment.

"Fine, okay. You're right. Possibly," I conceded.

"And?"

"I'm an idiot?"

"What kind of idiot?"

"Wow, you've really got this strict teacher act down. Fine! A self-sabotaging idiot. Happy?"

"Nope. What are you gonna do about it?"

As awesome as I was at screwing things up, I honestly had no idea how to fix my messes. My mouth opened as if that would make good plans roll off my tongue.

Nada.

Angela let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes at me. "C'mon, dumbass. Let's get in the car, and I'll drive you to the theater, or wherever he is, and you can go get your guy back."

She grabbed my arm and pulled me upright, and I knew I didn't have much chance of resisting her. And besides, since all my independent thinking got me here - single and miserable - maybe I should trust her for a change. It couldn't really get any worse, anyway.

"Um. He's doing a rotation thingie now," I told her as I reluctantly put on my jacket.

Her face did that thing again where only her eyebrow muscles move and yet, it revealed an amazing amount of judging and annoyance. Impatience, too, probably.

"I don't know what it's called, okay? It's a med student internship thing, or whatever. He'll be at the hospital."

The hospital, as it turned out, was a pretty big place, with several floors and hundreds of employees and I had no way of knowing where to find Edward.

Stellar planning, Swan.

Spontaneous romance only works in the movies. And besides, who says he's not just completely done with me?

My guardian Angel-a (ha! I made a pun!) wouldn't let me wallow, though, and she just dragged my ass over to the nearest young-looking white-coated person. She didn't say anything, but the famous eyebrow gave me directions on what to do. Again. She had some seriously talented facial muscles.

"Heyyyyyy… Doc…" I trailed off, and the random white-coat turned around to face me. "So… you wouldn't happen to know an Edward Cullen? He's supposed to be an intern here."

The young doctor shook his head. "No, but you might want to try Lauren over there. She's the intern that knows everyone's business. I'm sure she'll know."

That was a pretty good start, I thought, as Angela and I walked towards the life-sized Barbie doll Doc had pointed to, and I repeated my question.

"Oh my gosh, yes, of course I know him! Isn't he just the hottest? Ah, I so wish we'd share a rotation, you know? It'd be like my absolute dream day at work. But I'm so glad I'm not where he is right now, though, ewwww. Can you imagine?"

God, she actually talked like a life-sized Barbie doll, too. Was this plastic fantastic chick seriously an intern, as in, a future _doctor_? I would've asked, but, you know, priorities.

"Um, so, where is that exactly?"

"Where's what?"

Do not punch the Barbie. Do NOT punch the Barbie.

"Where's Edward… right now?"

"Oh! Gosh, ha ha. He's helping out in Pathology right now. You know, like, autopsies. Cutting up them dead folks. Ha ha! So he's either in the pathology lab or, ya know, getting fresh dead bodies. Ewww."

Of course he was.

*.*.*.*

"Okay, so I was all for this expedition, and I know I supported you even when we passed the previous 'do not enter' sign, but you can't seriously be thinking about barging in there? There's a pretty big sign on the heavy-looking door saying you're definitely not allowed through there. It's locked, anyway. Let's just come back another time, okay?"

Angela, for all her fierceness, got a little squeamish about the possibility of dead bodies, and I could understand her lack of enthusiasm, but we'd already sort of broken into the pathology lab wing of the hospital - which had been really hard to find, by the way. I guess they don't want just anyone walking in there while dissecting people?

Anyway, so we'd broken a few rules and it had been for nothing, because the labs were empty, and Edward wasn't there, which meant the only option left was the door in front of me. Or, more accurately, slightly to the front of me and sort-of around the corner, because Angela and I were already in a hallway we definitely weren't supposed to be in without lab coats and proper name tags, so we were hiding out in a corner, but you get the idea.

The morgue.

Gross.

The time window for rational thought was coming to an end, however, as I spotted an overweight, balding man in a lab coat come out of said morgue. He was absentmindedly playing on his phone, and didn't pay attention to either the slowly closing door or the rest of his surroundings.

Time to shine.

"Bye, Angie, we'll talk later, okay?" I whispered, and took off, praying my motorically challenged body would bless me with a smooth, fast run today, instead of a graceless stumble ending with me slamming head-first into the wall.

The morgue door was closing relatively slowly, thank God, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the bald guy turn the corner, so at least I was out of sight with my illegal activities. There were still about 10 feet to cover before the entrance automatically locked, however, so I sped up my run, begging the door to stay open just long enough.

I wasn't going to be able to throw my entire body through the door's opening, I thought, and stretched out my hand. As I finally reached my goal, the door was only inches away from closing so my left hand planted itself firmly in between it and the post, and the unfortunately heavy, steel structure of the door landed, with all its weight, right on my fingers, producing a sickening _crack_ sound.

That. Shit. Hurts. Trust me. Don't try to hold open a steel door with your hands. It'll work, but your hand won't like it. I had to bite down on my lip, hard, to keep from screaming out, and then _that_ hurt as well, and all this was just kind of a really bad omen.

Or, you know, it could only get better from here? Hashtag eternal optimist.

I quickly tore open the steel door and cradled my hand. No time to assess possible broken bones, I had a doctor to see.

With a glance back at Angela, who looked a little paler than usual, I made my way inside, where I found… another steel door with a small window in it, and a small sign saying 'Mortuary,' like I didn't already know where I was going. No one in their right mind would _accidentally_ end up here... alive, anyway.

The window was a nice touch to be able to see into the next room, but it was clearly meant for people taller than me. I felt like a little kid trying to peer over the kitchen counter, standing on my toes. I grabbed the small window sill with my right hand to try and pull myself up far enough to be able to see.

Didn't work. There was only one thing left to do: jump.

So there I was, hugging my injured hand close to my body, skipping in place and trying to see into a room full of dead people.

All in the name of love.

In the flashes I saw during the up-moment of my jumps, I noticed the morgue really did look quite a lot like they do in TV shows, but more importantly, I was sure I'd seen a flash of oddly colored - reddish but not quite - hair, attached to a moving person.

Edward!

I felt like that moment in Super Mario Bros when you finally reach the friggin' end castle and there's only one more obstacle left before you save the ungrateful bitch of a stupid princess that keeps getting herself kidnapped and -

No, okay, that wasn't where I was going with that point. My point is, that final door was my Bowser. Something like that.

I know, I know, I could just knock and he'd hear me, which isn't quite as memorable as defeating a video game bad guy. Also not the point.

I needed a moment to mentally prepare myself. Breathing through the pain of my hand with some silent mantras, I bent down slightly and leaned my head on the door to gather my wits and prepare my speech, and… promptly fell on my knees as the door swung open.

Okay, so maybe only the first door was locked. Oops.

My entrance with a bang, of course, did not go unnoticed, and I immediately spotted Edward as he poked his head around a large cupboard to see what the commotion was. Small favors: he did seem to be the only one there.

"Bella?" He sounded rather incredulous, and I couldn't blame him.

Scrambling to get into an upright position again - which is harder than you'd think, when you have only one arm available - I took a deep breath and faced him.

"Hi?" I squeaked.

He started walking, and all the text I had rehearsed flew out of my brain as I just watched him stride towards me. I had always loved to watch him move - he had this masculine grace, as if he was a professional runway model, completely confident and incredibly sexy. No wonder I never felt like I was good enough for him.

"What are you doing here?"

Fair question. He didn't sound too happy, but he didn't sound angry either. Then again I had never really seen Edward angry, he was such a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, always smiling, cheerful.

Yes, I already knew he was absolutely perfect and I was a moron. Thank you for reminding me.

"Bella?"

Oh, right! He asked me a question.

"Um… I wanted to say hi?"

Somehow, I don't think that was very convincing.

"You tracked me down in a gigantic hospital and managed to get through several layers of security so you could say hi to me… in the morgue?"

"Well, in all fairness, this would've been a lot more romantic and lovable if you'd been at, say, the wing where they keep all the babies."

"The maternity ward?"

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." I shrugged, then realized I was in danger of losing track of this conversation's direction. "I um… I miss you." There. That was to the point.

Silence.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I wasn't aware you were finished. I was sort of expecting…"

"Yeah?"

"An apology maybe?" He shrugged.

"Oh, darn! Wait! I had one prepared, honest. It was all about how you're amazing and I'm an idiot but in more eloquent terms, of course, and I'm really sorry for being such a stupid brat. And I miss you, but I already said that, and then all sorts of romantic declarations of love. It was the most epic of all epic apologies and I can't remember a word of it."

"And all my upper class blah blah things that you hate so much?"

I cringed as he threw my own words back at me and wondered why he was being so calm.

"Right. Um. I'm sorry about that, too."

"You know," he started, "I was actually going to ask you to come with me to the gala instead of postponing our date."

"Oh. Now I feel like even more of an ass."

Edward took a step closer to me, still the epitome of tranquility. "You love me," he stated simply.

I nodded frantically, glad that, somehow, I had managed to make my point clear.

"You want me back." He took another step in my direction.

It wasn't a question, but I replied anyway, "More than anything."

Yet another step - almost close enough to touch now - and there's so much I wanted to tell him, ask him, beg him, but he reached out and the second his hand touched my arm, I was a goner, as if that was all the encouragement I needed to melt my body to his.

Thankfully, for some reason, he didn't seem to find my instant clinginess bothersome and responded by wrapping his arms around me. My right hand clutched his back, fingernails digging through his lab coat, while my left hand hung limply in the air, and a part of my brain busied itself with trying to avoid further injury, but most of me was concerned with moving my lips closer to his.

I didn't waste time - I'd wasted enough the past few days. How I'd missed the feeling of those lips against mine. It's nectar and ambrosia, and all those Nicholas Sparks-like clichés, feeling infinity and eternal love or, you know, loads of horniness and sexual frustration because it had simply been far too long since I'd touched this glorious man of mine.

At least, I figured optimistically, this kissing business meant he was mine again.

My hand travelled to where I knew the waistband of his jeans was, but the long lab coat thwarted my plans, and I let out a whine of annoyance. Edward released my mouth and chuckled, then quickly discarded the offending piece of fabric, dumping it on the tiled floor without a care. Immediately, my fingers planted themselves firmly in one of my favorite places: the narrow space between boxers and jeans, just far enough to feel the start of his ass cheek.

Edward's teeth found my neck, nibbling soft bites down my collarbone, while his hand slid up the back of my shirt. I'd teased him so often about the way he'd perfected this move like an overeager teenager, but I appreciated the speed now. With a quick wave of his arm, my bra clasp was undone and my t-shirt was off, and it would've been so very smooth, except that, of course, the t-shirt had passed my injured hand, and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming out at the unpleasant friction, and hid my face in his chest. I knew if he figured out the injury he'd stop to examine my hand, and I really, really didn't want to stop.

Thankfully, I was quickly distracted by more pleasant friction, as his lips moved to my chest and his hands pushed away my bra. It fell to the floor as he placed quick kisses on my exposed breasts, and I whimpered at his touch. It was almost unfair to the rest of the world's female population what this man could do with this mouth. And fingers. And… the rest of him. All of him.

Our movements were becoming more frantic, both of us sensing that this was not going to be some tender lovemaking; we needed each other, _now_. Thankfully, his sense of urgency meant that he removed his pants in record-time and immediately made quick work of my fly, and the next thing I knew my jeans were on the floor, and I stepped out of them.

Instantly, he pulled my body to mold with his, flush against each other, lips tasting everywhere they could reach and hands exploring what they'd been missing the past few days. None of it was gentle; my fingernails were digging into his t-shirt covered back, his hands grabbed my hair roughly and our lips smashed together almost painfully, silently screaming our mutual need.

Suddenly, his mouth released mine and he growled as his fingers pulled roughly on my hair. The look in his eyes was almost feral, and I knew I wasn't much different. This was need, pure and simple, and we both felt it.

Edward crouched down slowly as his lips made his way to my breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth. I held on to his hair, flustered by the sensations, as I looked around the room. There was a wall filled with small rectangular doors right in front of me, name tags on most of them, and I realized with horror that inside each of those were the bodies of dead people, and here I was getting my breast sucked on.

As if sensing that I needed a distraction, his free hand reached around my back to grab my side, and he forcefully spun me around. My back now faced him, and before I could recover from the surprising move, his hard cock pressed into my ass. He let out another groan that only increased the desperate urgency I felt.

"I need you, inside me, now," I moaned pitifully. This had not been the day of eloquent words.

He pulled down my panties in one smooth motion, the stretched fabric digging into my upper legs. I wanted to focus on the feeling, but his fingers found skin, and wetness, and all rational thought flew out the window as two fingers entered me roughly.

"This is still mine, Bella." His voice was raspy, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his lips on me as his fingers pumped almost brutally but in the best way.

"Yessss," I panted.

He directed us a few steps forward, his fingers still managing to drive me mad. "Bend over," he demanded, his voice rough.

My elbows found the cool steel of a table as I attempted to spread my legs wider, the fabric of my scrunched up panties digging into my skin.

His lips found my ear again. "Tell me you're mine, Bella."

"Ah- I am. Yours. Always," I panted.

Two fingers moved relentlessly as his thumb found my clit, my balance almost lost as my legs threatened to give out. His other hand fondled my breasts and worked its way up, grabbing my throat - gently enough not to actually hurt me, but strong enough to make me feel completely under his control. Suddenly, his hands left my body, and I cried out from the loss of his touch.

"Damn right you are," he snarled.

I had never seen Edward so possessive, so rough, and it was turning me on like nothing I'd ever experienced. I needed his touch again but couldn't find the words to articulate, only capable of letting out a moan.

He placed a hand on my back and pushed me down onto the table, bent over almost a 90 degree angle and completely exposed to him. As my face landed against the cold steel, a similar table across the room caught my eye. The sight of a naked corpse with his chest split open made me falter for a second, a curious mixture of disgust and morbid curiosity filling me, but instantly Edward sensed my distraction and sped up his ministrations. My eyes rolled back in my head from pleasure as my lids fell closed.

I ignored my surroundings as I felt Edward parting my ass cheeks and spreading my juices around my lips. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groaned, teasing me with touches that were suddenly light as a feather. I tried to push back with my body to gain more friction, more touch, anything, but his other hand still had a firm grip on me, keeping me glued in place.

"Tsk, tsk. No, my Bella. I will touch you when I decide to touch you. You will come when I say you can come. And you'll get fucked only when I say it's time to fuck you. Now keep still."

I had no idea where this side of Edward came from, but I craved more of it, and obediently stayed still and silent, trying to find my patience as his fingers explored my folds, agonizingly slowly. The hand holding my back travelled upward to my neck, gently sliding the tips of his fingers through my hair.

We were silent, the only sounds in the room our mutual deep breaths, and I started to hold mine in anticipation of his next move. I was completely in his power, and could - _would_ \- do nothing but wait as he continued to caress me softly.

He slowly covered my body with his and brought his mouth back to my ear. "Now!" he growled, and the fingers that were gently stroking my locks suddenly grabbed a fist full, tugging my head back as the fingers touching my wetness were suddenly replaced by the cock I'd missed so much. He slammed into me, not wasting time with pleasantries or gentleness.

I cried out. The combination of the pleasure of his cock filling me so completely and the pain of his fingers tangled in my hair was almost overwhelming, and I almost came right then as his teeth found my neck again, biting down roughly on my most sensitive spots.

"You." Bite. "Are." Thrust. "MINE." Bite. He thrusted hard, deeper than ever as I held onto the table's edges, certain that if I didn't, my legs would fail to keep me upright.

His free arm wrapped around me, bringing me as close to his body as possible as he increased the speed of his thrusts. I was locked in his embrace, completely surrounded by his body and held in place by his hands and cock as he pounded into me, quickly bringing me to the brink of an orgasm. My body was being used in the most glorious, pleasurable way, a pure ecstacy of need and want, and I let go of rational thought and lost myself in feeling him hit the right spots.

"Fuck, Bella. I - I can't last. Feels too good," he grunted incoherently, and I silently agreed, my walls clenching as my orgasm approached with lightning speed. I was getting closer every time his cock hit me deep, every time his teeth scraped my neck and every time his hand clawed at my breasts.

Right as I felt the tell-tale sign of my peak, he roared loudly, all of his muscles constricting - squeezing me just a little tighter, pulling my head back just a little further, and pushing his cock into me even deeper than before. We shattered together, falling to pieces on top of each other, on the cold steel table, panting, heaving, spent.

After a few minutes, I returned to earth and reason, and I started giggling, despite Edward's body still pressing me into the table. We carefully disentangled, and he lifted himself off of me. I was fairly sure he understood what I was thinking, as he joined my giggles with his trademarked chuckle.

For a while, we just stood there, mostly naked and laughing, and it was every bit as heavenly as the sex before it.

"Did we seriously…" I attempted to start a sentence.

"Fuck in a morgue?"

"Yeah, that."

"Yeah, we did."

"Huh." I shrugged, meeting his eyes, and we both promptly started laughing again.

"Holy shit, we're insane," I said, and he just nodded in agreement.

I cleared my throat. "So um. About that apology and me being stupid…"

He smirked. "Are you going to do anything quite this stupid again?"

"Hell no," I said immediately. I'd learned my lesson and they'd have to forcefully pry me off of him to get me to leave Edward again.

"Good. So you should start packing then."

My post-orgasmic-blissed-out-brain did not compute this. "Huh?"

His smirk grew bigger, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, you're moving in the day after tomorrow, right? So you better start packing."

That was about the time I started squealing and jumped into his arms, wrapping my own around his neck, and automatically linked my hands together.

And _that_ , of course, was the moment I screamed louder than even during the crazy sexcapades, and Edward discovered I really had broken two fingers with a steel door.

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **A/N Welp, that's it for now. Yeah, I made them have sex in a morgue. But at least it's a relatively sanitary place? I think? I don't know which is worse, the bathroom or the morgue. What do you think?**

 **I didn't plan on continuing Flushed and I don't really have plans to write a chapter 3, but I kind of decided that if you give me an awesome enough idea of a place where these two umm *cough* passionate *cough* lovers should hook up next, I might just continue this for the hell of it. A multi-chapter sex-in-odd-places fic. You know, if you're interested in that sort of thing.**

 **Come find me on Facebook (Lotus Wright) or twitter (Lotus_wright) :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3!**

 **Whut? A chapter 3? Why yes indeed. Surprise!**

 **This is unbeta'd because I am an impatient person and I wanted to post this today. All grammatical (and other) errors may be reported via review ;-)**

* * *

"Oh my god, today is the day! Today is the day!"

I jumped on the bed, carelessly forgetting that my arm was in a cast, and regretted my decision to be enthusiastic instantly as said cast hit the edge of my small twin bed.

 _Count to ten, Swan. Calm yourself down. You are calm and cool and collected and arghhhh whatever._

Yeah, mantras were never really my thing.

However! Today would be a good day, regardless of the pain currently shooting through my broken fingers.

Today, I would move in with Edward.

My stuff was packed, my lame ass couch was at Goodwill, and Edward and our friends would be here in approximately fifty-seven minutes with a small rented U-Haul trailer to haul my stuff over to his place.

And then, I would officially be a grown-up.

Or something like it anyway.

The temporary break-up had left its marks, mostly in that we got enormously clingy with each other. It had only been a few days since I showed up at the morgue, and we'd been in a near-constant state of endless naked entanglements and mostly-dressed quickies. He'd slept at his apartment last night though, having worked the late shift, and so it had been more than eleven hours since we'd had sex.

 _Le sigh._

I never thought I'd be this insatiable, but, well … it was Edward. 'Nuff said.

I threw on the single outfit I hadn't boxed up yet as quickly as I could—which, to be fair, wasn't all that fast, because the cast severely limited my movements and my t-shirt was just a little too tight. Hadn't thought about how to get the ridiculously enlarged arm through the sleeves when I picked it out.

Ten minutes and Edward would be here.

I wasted some time trying to shove a few boxes in the direction of the front door. I couldn't pick anything up with my damn wrist, so I had to push the boxes with one hand, and occasionally my feet, spending more time on moving a single box a few feet forward than anyone ever should. I felt like a cartoon character, you know, one of the ones that just keep pushing and pushing a rock, fruitlessly, until they realize life is 3D instead of 2D and they could just walk around.

Except my rock, um, box, actually did need to be moved. So I huffed and puffed and pushed like a woman in labor and finally got the damn thing to the door just as Edward walked in.

"Hey, babe, let me help you with that," he greeted as he easily picked up the damn box and took it outside to where Emmett was waiting with his trailer. Took him all of four seconds, the show off.

While I stood there being extraordinarily useless, Edward and Emmett filled the trailer with boxes in record time. I had more stuff than I thought, apparently, because not everything would fit in one go. It was unanimously decided without my input that I would stay here while they took a "quick" trip to Edward's place to unload the first … well, load.

Quick trip my ass.

There's really not much you can do in an almost empty apartment by yourself with one arm in a cast. All I had was a couple of boxes, my bed and my phone and I got bored quickly so I fired off a text to Edward.

 _Hey baby, whatcha doing?_

Which was a pretty lame text as far as these things go, because obviously he was moving my stuff to his place, but hey, you had to start somewhere, right? His reply was pretty swift.

 _Is this a trick question?_

Damn boy wasn't playing along.

 _Yes. No. Whatever. I'm horny and I miss you._

There. That ought to do it.

 _Our place. All night. Soon._

Ah, he was definitely catching on. Excellent. Except now I was actually _really_ horny, and Edward's suggestion would take far too much patience on my side.

So naturally, I used my phone to watch some porn instead. That passed the time quite nicely but had the side effect of making me much, much hornier. Whoops. By the time Edward and Emmett came back—all sweat and shiny muscles—I was a quivering mess of hormones, and well, I may have jumped him.

In public. In the street. While he was standing next to Emmett.

Needless to say, Edward was not quite at the same level of horniness as I was at that moment, so he chuckled, gave me a chaste kiss and put me down.

Nowhere near satisfactory, of course, although part of me appreciated the civility-in-public thing, sure I would later regret dry humping him in the street.

Emmett was a good friend of Edward's and was by now pretty much used to our public displays of affection, so he just rolled his eyes and ignored the crazy like the smart man that he was.

"All right, all right, you fine piece of man meat, I'll let you go for now," I said, reluctantly removing my arms from my boyfriend. "But injury or no injury, I'm going to help put stuff in the trailer this time, because I am bored as all hell and I need something to do."

Thus began the repetition of "Bella attempts to move a box". I'm sure it would have earned me a lot of laughs if the boys hadn't been so busy. They were trying to take the bed outside in one piece "because taking it apart and putting it back together is a lot of work and this will work fine and it's just a single anyway", except it only barely fit through the door. They needed to pass a corner, and it was all so much like Ross on Friends trying to get a couch upstairs, "Pivot! Pivot!" that I almost gave up on my box just to watch and laugh. I remembered that I looked just as ridiculous with my one-armed, tiny weak person attempt at moving a box, so I held it in.

It took me as long to move one measly box (filled with towels and bedsheets, no less, not exactly bricks and lead) to the sidewalk as it took the boys to get the entire twin bed into the trailer, but as I shoved and pushed at the damn thing I at least felt some sense of accomplishment. It also provided a nice and necessary distraction from my horniness, even if it didn't lessen any of it.

As Emmett walked back into the house to get some more boxes, Edward stood awkwardly crouching inside the trailer, pushing the bed into the far back. I pulled an amazing move where I lifted 'my' box with one hand, one elbow and some assistance of my knees, and suddenly the trailer held a box, a bed, a boyfriend and me.

Ooohh, opportunities.

Continuing my streak of sudden athleticism, I hooked a foot behind the trailer door and yanked it shut while simultaneously sticking out my non-broken hand to grab the other door. It was harder than I thought it would be because there weren't any door handles. Weird, but whatever. I was gonna jump my boyfriend.

You know those moments where you can predict something stupid's going to happen but you're already too late to stop it?

I realized the consequences of the lack of door handles just half a second before the door slammed shut.

Who makes trailers that automatically lock?

Who makes trailers you can't open from the inside? That seems like a serious health and safety violation or something. Should've gone with an actual U-Haul truck instead of Emmett and his "my buddy's uncle knows someone who has a trailer we can borrow."

Either way, the damage was done, the door was locked, it was darker than Satan's asshole and I was still inside a trailer with my boyfriend and a bed and all my hormones. I crouched low enough to not bump my head against the low ceiling and shuffled my way across the trailer until I knocked my shin into the bed. I climbed onto the mattress all seductive-like until I realized it was far too dark and Edward wouldn't be able to see a thing I was doing anyway, so I called upon the Gods of porn sounds for a nice soundtrack instead.

I moaned.

"Um, babe?" Edward called out hesitantly from what sounded like a foot or two away. "What are you doing?"

Okay, Swan. Be seductive. No whining. "I'm hoooorny, dammit," I whined. Crap.

He chuckled, the sadist, but I heard his feet shuffle over to me anyway and soon enough the mattress dipped with his weight. "You're horny." It was a statement, with no emotion attached to it, and since I couldn't look at his face for clues either, I couldn't really do anything with it except reply "Well, yeah." Which I did.

"You're the best kind of crazy," he said, and suddenly I felt a hand on my ankle. "Whoops!" He laughed. "It's kind of hard to find the relevant body parts when it's darker than Donald Trump's soul."

"Truth, mister. However! If we're actually on the same wavelength here, can we axe all mentions of the sun-kissed ass plug that is the presidential candidate?"

"Fair enough," he replied, and his hands managed to find a lot more relevant body parts, climbing up up up on my leg, finding the hem of my skirt and the cleavage of my shirt.

We sensed, somehow, that we needed to make this quick, although I at least did not have the presence of mind to think of why. Hands flew everywhere. Clothing was not disposed of but opened and pulled and folded the bare minimum, the only criterion being "can I reach the necessary parts". Foreplay was skipped entirely. I'd just spent fifty minutes looking at porn anyway, and we always did seem to get a little crazy about weird locations, so that helped too.

The darkness magnified the effect of each and every sound, making mundane things like his jeans zipper and the shifting of the mattress into erotic experiences. I could feel him line up, but missed the moment of eye contact we usually shared. He was going in blind—so to speak—I thought, and then I had to hide the sound of my laugh-snort behind my mouth because only I could think I was funny at a moment like that.

He filled me, no hesitation, no soft or subtle movements, and I groaned loudly. Fucking finally. His movements and breaths were as desperate as mine. His fingers grabbed my neck roughly and kneaded my breasts through my shirt. Mine dug their way into his back, probably ruining the thin T-shirt he was wearing, but fuck it. This was passion, making love as if we hadn't seen each other for weeks, a ridiculous level of attachment that was completely irresistible.

"Fuck, Bella," he panted. "You're some sort of witch, I swear, I don't know what you do to me. How do you always, always, feel so damn good?"

I really, really wanted to reply to that, but managed to hold back and classified it as "rhetorical question".

Now we'd made love in the dark before, sure, lights off and all that. But this, this total darkness and precarious balance and weird location, not seeing a damn thing while being parked in the street in broad daylight … that was definitely something else. I was a slave to the sensations our bodies were creating. Every thrust felt magnified, extra intense. Edward's hand found my mouth to try to silence my obnoxiously loud moans, but he quickly gave up on that; I was noisy despite his attempts, and he was groaning just as loudly.

My old twin bed squeaked with the effort to accommodate the roughness of our movements. Every time Edward pushed himself deep inside of me sent me closer to the trailer's walls, to the point where I put my arm, cast and all, in between my head and the wall to avoid a head butt at every thrust.

Edward groaned into my ear as his hands grabbed my butt cheeks, lifting me up into an angle that allowed him to go even deeper, and I cried out as he filled me over and over again, hitting just the right spot. Nonsensical sounds that may have formed words left my mouth, grunts and moans left his. "Fuck, Edward, I'm gonna come," I managed to mumble.

He replied by biting my neck, which was unfair; he knew that was the most sensitive external spot on my body, and it instantly pushed me over the edge. "Oh, God!" I screamed, at a weirdly high pitch; I'd lost all control over my vocal cords.

My nails dug into his shoulder blades as my walls clamped down around him. I threw my head back, hitting the damn trailer wall. Edward pushed into me one final time with a loud grunt, with such force that my entire body shifted a few inches and my head hit the trailer again.

So worth it.

We lay there, immobile and panting, for a minute, until we were interrupted by a loud bang on the door that freaked both of us out enough to sit up straight instantly.

"Yo guys, you done?" Emmett's voice bellowed from the other side of the trailer door.

"I'm sure they are, dear," I heard another voice say, and it took me a few seconds to realize that was Mrs. Cope, my 75-year-old neighbor. "See? The trailer's stopped moving and they're both silent."

"Good point," Emmett replied, as if this was a completely normal conversation to have with a lady who only wore nightgowns and fuzzy slippers. "You decent, you pervs?"

Since no clothes had been removed and only necessary parts had been laid bare, it took only a few seconds of scrambling about in the dark to be able to answer in the affirmative. The trailer door opened and we shielded our eyes as light poured in. There stood Emmett, grinning and shaking his head, next to Mrs. Cope, who indeed was wearing her lilac satin nightgown and matching slippers today, as well as curlers in her gray hair. Next to them was a large pile of all the stuff that had still been inside the apartment. I could only imagine the amount of times Emmett had made a trip to that exact spot. Whoops.

"Um, hi?" I squeaked, as Edward and I both attempted to climb out of the trailer.

"Lots of luck in your new neighborhood, my dear," Mrs. Cope said, and scurried away.

"Oohh, subtle burn!" Emmett guffawed.

"Shut up, Emmett."

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 **A/N Hiiiii.**

 **This is to celebrate my anniversary (today), as well as the fact that my other story Looks Bad on Paper reached 750 reviews which is amazing to me… and oh yeah! I started a facebook group, which is loads of fun. Come find me at Lotus Wri(gh)tings.**

 **Thanks for reading. Drop me a line if you have the time for it, please? Reviews are my happy pills. x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Flushed**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Hiii! Flushed is a nominee for Top 10 fics of June at twifanfictionrecs dot com. If you like this story, please vote for it. In honor of this awesome occasion I wrote another chapter, so here ya go! It's unbetad. Sorry. I was in a hurry.**

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Emmett wiped his sweaty forehead with his bare arm. His other held his fifth beer of the night. He was on a roll; a talkative, loud presence, and I watched him in annoyance with narrowed eyes, as if my evil glare could somehow persuade him to just _leave already_.

My friend Rosalie was standing next to Emmett, feigning nonchalance but really just twirling her hair with a perfectly manicured finger, and batting her eyelashes at him, and laughing at his lame jokes. Fine. Let them hook up; I didn't care. As long as that meant the two of them would get out of my house. But Emmett was too wrapped up in his own entertainment value to notice Rose's advances, so no progress was made.

Angela and Ben were chatting quietly in a corner. Jasper seemed to be trying to do some line dance thing, showing off his mediocre skills for Alice, Jessica and Lauren. Quite the entourage.

It felt like people were everywhere. The apartment I now shared with Edward wasn't all that huge, and definitely not big enough for the fifteen people that were currently talking and drinking and making so. much. noise.

I was being unfair and childish, really. I knew that. All these fifteen people had been angels today. While Edward and Emmett did most of the heavy lifting, a whole bunch of our friends had come over to help us unpack. More friends showed up than strictly necessary-I didn't have that much stuff-but they brought beer and stuck around. The unpacking took an hour of two and then the binge drinking started. I wasn't sure where all the alcohol came from but I hoped it would be gone soon …. Because I really, really needed to be alone with my boyfriend right now, on our first night of officially living together. There were surfaces to be christened, and why wouldn't any of these fuckers _leave already_.

Edward was talking to his cousin Tyler on the other side of the room when he caught my eye. He must've sensed the waves of angry horniness rolling off me, because he smirked and winked. He said something to Tyler, gave him a friendly tap on the upper arm and walked my way.

"Hey, babe," he said just a little too loud, as if purposely trying to make everyone listen in on this conversation. "Did you remember to bring that … thing … from your storage? Or is it still there?"

It took me a beat too long to understand what the hell my normally smooth boyfriend was trying to pull. "Thing?"

"Yeah, you know," he said and nudged my shoulder. "I'm sure you really need that thing."

Blank face.

"So we should go and pick it up real quick," he continued.

Huh?

Oh.

Ohhh!

If I were a cartoon character this would be the moment an actual light bulb appeared over my head.

"Yes, yes indeed!" I nodded fervently. "We really should go get ... that thing. It'll be hard to sleep without it."

Both of us stuck in cartoon character mode, I was still nodding as he linked my arm with his. "Bye, friends!" he announced. "We'll be back in a bit. Feel free to keep drinking beer, but don't mess anything up, please!" And with that we were out the door, ignoring the chuckles of our friends.

He had me pulled flush against him, back forcefully pressed into the wall, in no time, and his lips met mine in a passionate kiss.

Minutes later, we pulled apart, both of us breathless. "Where are we gonna go?"

"Don't care," I panted as his teeth traced a path down my neck. "Anywhere, fast."

We all but raced to his car and were out the street like a bat out of hell. "Lincoln Park?" he suggested.

I shook my head. "Too crowded."

"Public bathroom?" he asked with a wink and I snorted.

"How creative of you. Surely we haven't run out of weird places to have sex yet?"

Edward chuckled and kept driving. We tossed some suggestions at each other but despite our immense horniness we were less than inspired, apparently. Really, we just wanted to have sex in _our_ apartment, in _our_ bed, but that wasn't going to happen right now.

"How about that spot near the lake?"

I groaned. "That's like another half hour drive. I can't wait that-oh! Right there! Turn left!" I'd spotted a familiar street that led to a small park. We'd walked around there a few times and had never encountered anyone, so surely we'd be able to find a good spot there.

Edward drove us to the park entrance, which was exactly the way I remembered it: quiet, secluded, empty. I was out the door the moment he hit the brakes and Edward followed quickly, both of us eager to find a spot in the park, so we speed walked over to the park entrance.

Except there were voices. People were apparently playing some game in the park-far enough that we couldn't see them, but close enough that it'd be extraordinarily awkward to walk around searching for a fuckspot in the presence of others.

But we really, really needed that release. I was getting frustrated. One glance at Edward's face told me he was right there with me. He looked at the car, parked in a secluded corner near the trees, and back at me. I bit my lip, considering it. It could work. The park entrance was a bit further away, and you could barely see the liquor store on the other side of the road. If we stuck to the side of the car, in theory no one should be able to see us.

Good enough for me.

Hand in hand we sprinted back to the car. Edward roughly pushed me up against the passenger side and grabbed my arms, holding them up against the car. In his passion, he forgot my arm cast, and it crashed into the car body with a loud clank and a lot of pain. Seeing that he was about to get side-tracked and apologize, I linked my ankle around his leg and quickly yanked to get him closer to me. I couldn't actually physically move him much, but he got the hint and crashed his mouth to mine. His fingers dug into my arms and his teeth nipped at my lips, my jaw, my neck, down to my collarbone.

I let out an embarrassingly loud moan and hoped no one was close enough to hear it.

One hand released my injured arm and his fingers instantly trailed my stomach, trailing upward underneath my shirt. With one arm pinned and one in a cast, I could do nothing but enjoy his touch as his hand found my breast and pinched my nipple through the cotton of my bra.

He pressed into me, making sure to hit the right place with his cock even with the layers of clothing separating us, and he silenced my sounds with his lips. He sucked my bottom lip in between his and bit softly, soothing the small sting immediately by running his tongue over the bite spots. I opened my mouth and he plunged his tongue into me. We kissed slowly, sensually for a few minutes, until he released my mouth, peppering my lips with small kisses. He moved his lips to the side of my mouth, to my cheek, then slid his tongue to my ear and began to lightly nibble. I felt his breath hitting the wetness he left on my ear as he moved down to my neck where his teeth lightly scraped at my skin. Goosebumps erupted as he panted and sucked harder.

Edward's hand released my trapped arm and he placed both hands on my ass, lifting me up. Trapped between his body and the car, my legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pushing my pelvis into him as he thrusted against me. If we kept up this friction like this we'd both come in our pants and that was just not what I had planned for tonight, so I broke the kiss, intent on telling him to pull down his pants.

Instead, I was met by a harsh bright light that instantly blinded both of us. We froze and I blinked to try and see beyond the light …

… and found a sweaty, overweight police officer shining a flashlight in our faces.

Shit.

~oOo~

I'd sat in the back of my father's police car enough times, but never as someone who had just been arrested. My nerves were not happy. My fingernails disappeared more and more between my teeth, and to top it off my vagina was practically screaming at me for not finishing what had promised to be a very hot encounter with Edward's cock.

I wished I could say the sudden change of scenery from hot dry humping to awkward arrestees diminished my libido, but sadly, this was not the case, so I sat angry and sexually frustrated in the spot reserved for criminals. At least we weren't handcuffed.

Edward wasn't much better off. He'd tried to talk his way out of it, all politeness and good upbringing and nervous stutters, but the cop wasn't having it. He was the kind of cop who muttered angrily about "today's youth", and I was guessing nothing would deter him from "teaching those damn kids a lesson".

"Public lewdness, fornication and indecent exposure," he grumbled angrily at us as he closed the door.

"Hey," I protested. "That's not even true. I'm no lawyer but there was no fornication and no _indecent_ body parts were exposed."

The cop narrowed his eyes and bent down to glare at me through the window. "But it would've happened if I hadn't stopped you."

Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut, but that was just plain wrong. "If I'm about to murder someone but you stop me right before I do, you wouldn't be able to charge me with murder either, so that's insane!"

Yeah, I really should've shut up, but I was on a roll. "And there's no such thing as "intended indecent exposure", now is there? Just how crooked ar-"

Edward shut me up with a hand on my mouth. I rolled my eyes and mumbled, "Fine," into the palm of his hand. The cop stood up straight again, stretching out his back and basically pushing his sweaty pot belly into the window next to my face.

"Babe, maybe don't try to annoy the police officer right now?" Edward whispered in my ear.

"But he's being so unfair!" I whisper-whined back like the adult that I was, and I pouted a little for good measure.

Edward smirked at me and leaned over, catching my pouty lip between his teeth. He sucked in my bottom lip, gently teasing with his tongue.

Seemed to me I wasn't the only one who could turn off their libido at will. My hand snaked up to his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and I tugged gently.

"Damn youngsters!" the cop suddenly yelled and we broke apart, embarrassed and ready to listen to some serious scolding, but as I looked out the window at the fat cop I realized this particular exclamation hadn't been meant for us. He was yelling in the other direction, alternated by some indistinguishable words shouted into his radio thing. Craning my neck to see beyond the car, I watched as our police offer hurriedly wobbled down the road, hands holding up his pants. He repeated the same profanities he'd offered us earlier-damn kids, stupid youngsters, this is what's wrong with America-as he attempted to get something that was hidden from my view by his large posture.

Edward put his head on my shoulder so both of us could put our faces to the window, eager to see what the hell was going on.

Suddenly, fat cop's body wasn't enough to hide what was happening anymore. Four pale skinny white guys, naked save for the poop brown pantyhose covering their heads, drunkenly ran out of the liquor store and into the street. Judging from the lack of defined muscles I guessed they were teenagers having a little too much fun. They seemed to be singing something and I wanted so badly to hear what they were singing so my hand reached out to roll down the window … except of course you can't do that in a cop car.

Fat cop may have ran away, futilely chasing after a foursome of young, healthy guys, but we were still locked inside the car.

The naked guys were surprisingly fast for people so obviously drunk off their asses, and the cop chased enthusiastically, if not quite at the same speed as the boys.

I idly wondered why he didn't just take the car-surely that would have been much faster-but chalked it up to adrenaline.

The naked guys and and the yelling cop disappeared around the corner. Edward and I waited in silence. Was the obese police officer (heh, that rhymed nicely) really going to chase after those guys on foot?

A minute passed and the sounds of drunk teenagers could no longer be heard. We were officially abandoned in a locked cop car.

Hmmm.

I bit my lip, my mind suddenly filled with possibilities. I slowly turned my head to look at Edward, but he was one step ahead of me and pulled me into his lap. It took some serious acrobatic movements, in a confined space with an arm cast, but I made it to my destination and was immediately wrapped up in his arms.

Our hands trailed each other's bodies, as far as was possible in the narrow confines of our surroundings. Lips attacked lips, cheeks, necks, earlobes. The car was soon filled with pants and moans. Edward had a little evil smirk on his face, clearly thinking the same thing I was: it would probably take a while before our cop came back, and we would surely be alerted to his presence by the way his feet stomped on the road.

Thankful that I wasn't wearing the skinniest of jeans, I pulled myself up from Edward's lap. Maneuvering myself into an odd position, bending over but stretching my legs, my head touched the car's roof and my crotch was in Edward's face. He took immediate advantage-instead of opening my zipper, he put his hands on my ass and pulled me closer. His warm mouth found my inner thighs and he bit gently through the fabric, creating a path of small bites up to my clit. I wove my fingers through his hair to keep steady.

"Too much fabric," he grumbled, his nose and mouth still buried in my jean-clad pussy.

"Very true," I replied. But how were we going to take my pants off? There wasn't exactly a whole lot of room.

Edward, always the planner, seemed to assess the situation for a second before he figured it out. He opened my zipper and gently pushed my knee up, placing my legs closer together. His hands grabbed the waistband of my jeans and he pushed them down, linking his fingers with my panties to let them slide down my ass at the same time. He got as far as my knees-the denim was tight and scrunched too much to easily pull off, and besides, I was still wearing my shoes. I yanked my one leg upward, basically folding my jeans over my lower legs like a toddler trying to get undressed. My panties stretched as far as they could, digging into the skin of my calves.

Edward placed his hand on my thigh, coaxing me to turn around. I hopped a bit to turn around, the jeans and the small space severely limiting my options for movement. By the time my back faced him, I glanced at him over my shoulder. He had already opened his own zipper and was slowly stroking his cock, his eyes focused on my bare ass. Edward let his free hand follow his gaze, kneading my ass, before sliding one finger down my slit.

"Fuck, my vixen, you're wet," he groaned.

I rested my arm and my forehead against the metal of the cage partition, letting the feeling of his finger exploring my pussy wash over me. I could hear him move but couldn't see his movements, so the teeth that suddenly found my ass cheek made my breath hitch in surprise. He released me from my bite and immediately let his hand come down on the same spot. A loud slapping sound filled the confines of the car, followed by another yelp from me. Again, his fingers trailed a path to my slit, feeling the slickness there.

"You like getting spanked, don't you," he groaned. I didn't reply. It wasn't as if he didn't already know how much I liked that.

But we both knew now was not the time and place for elaborate spanking games. His arm wrapped around my waist and he slowly pulled me down onto his lap, inching down onto his waiting cock.

We groaned as he filled me, agonizingly slowly, and I leaned back. My head found his shoulder and his lips attacked my neck. I was trapped in his strong arms, a willing prisoner, not even bothered by the awkward position we were in. He started to move inside me as one of his hands found its way to my clit. His mouth never left my neck and sucked hard. The triple sensation made me curse some colorful profanities.

Edward released my neck but kept thrusting and rubbing my clit. "Fuck babe, this is going to be fast."

I could only nod and groan my consent.

He picked up the pace. Two fingers pinched my clit as he pushed into me hard. I had to use my good hand to hold onto the cage so I wouldn't lose my balance, his pounding into me making my legs shake. The arm that wasn't bringing pleasure to my pussy held me grounded, wrapped tightly around my waist. Over and over his thrusts pushed me forward. Nonsensical syllables and groans filled the car. The windows were fogging up and I felt a little like Leo and Kate in Titanic, but I didn't have time to think that over much as Edward hit just the right spot and suddenly my orgasm was very close.

"I'm … I'm close," Edward groaned and his lips found my neck again.

I nodded again, not able to form any words.

His movements got more and more intense. His arm held me tighter, his fingers rubbed my clit faster. Edward's lips were exchanged for teeth. His thrusts hit me harder, deeper, the bent over doggystyle position allowing deep penetration, and I lost it.

"Ahhh!" I yelled, my walls clenching down.

"Fuck, Bella, yes!" he yelled, his orgasm directly following mine and we collapsed in a heap of awkwardly tangled limbs and clothing. The car felt suffocating, humid and warm due to our physical exercise, and we were both sweaty.

Edward managed to lift his arm to clear a window. "Shit," he cursed as he looked outside. I turned my tired body so I could see what he was looking at.

In the distance, across the road, was our now red-faced, sweaty fat cop, followed by a new police officer we hadn't seen before _and_ four young, naked, pasty white boys, no longer happy drunks. Their heads hung down, no longer covered in pantyhose, and they were cuffed in front of their bodies so they could attempt to censor their private parts.

Edward and I realized it wouldn't take too long before they reached our car, so we attempted to disentangle. Forgetting for the moment that my jeans were all rolled down and would limit my movements, I tried to hop back to my spot and instantly tripped, banging my forehead against the cage. Edward helped me up and back to my side of the car and pulled up my pants before I started leaking certain bodily fluids all over the police force leather.

Lady parts modestly covered again, I let my body fall down in my seat, and Edward quickly buttoned my pants for me-it would've taken me and my one working arm ages to do so. Edward finished buttoning his own button-fly jeans just as the group of six reached the car and fat cop opened our door.

"All right, you perverts," our cop muttered. "We got more important shit to handle." He pointed at the four skinny naked dudes. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and make y'all sit on the laps of these naked fellows."

I was still panting from our sex but I flew out of there like a fart in the wind, followed by Edward, and we didn't stop running until we were safely back in his own car.

We took deep breaths in between panting that turned into hysterical laughter. It took a good few minutes to calm down, the crazy fading away.

Edward shook his head in amusement. "So," he said. "Shall we go back to our party?"

I snorted like the charming lady that I was. "Yes, sir. Let's."

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 **A/N Thank you for reading! Welcome new readers. Please leave a review? I'd love to hear from you.**

 **Thanks to Snowflakelover & Missbreakingsanity for your smutspiration & help. You guys rock. **

**Thanks to whoever nominated me for Twifanfictionrecs and for every one of you who voted/will vote for Flushed (please?), I will love you forever.**

 **P.S. I'm gonna be on vacation for the next 2.5 weeks so no updates on my other story Looks Bad on Paper either. Thank you for your patience. Make my mailbox explode with reviews for me? ;)**

 **P.P.S. I have a facebook group! Just because. Find me at Lotus Wri(gh)tings on fb, come say hi!**


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